ly to sail for India. I
intended writing to ask him to pay us a visit before he left; but
now," he added, in a dreamy voice, "of course he must come, and--he
must marry you before he goes."

Any thing more horrible, more abhorrent, to Zillah than such
language, at such a time, could not be conceived. She thought he was
raving.

A wild exclamation of fear and remonstrance started to her lips; but
she remembered the doctor's warning, and by a mighty effort repressed
it. It then seemed to her that this raving delirium, if resisted,
might turn to madness and endanger his last chance. In her despair
she found only one answer, and that was something which might soothe
him.

"Yes, dear papa," she said, quietly; "yes, we will ask him to come
and see us."

"No, no," cried the General, with feverish impatience. "That will not
do. You must marry him at once--to-day--to-morrow--do you hear? There
is no time to lose."

"But I must stay with you, dearest papa, you know," said Zillah,
still striving to soothe him. "What would you do without your little
girl? I am sure you can not want me to leave you."

"Ah, my child!" said the General, mournfully, "I am going to leave
_you_. The doctor tells me that I have but a short time to live; and
I feel that what he says is true. If I must leave you, my darling, I
can not leave you without a protector."

At this Zillah's unaccustomed self-control gave way utterly. Overcome
by the horror of that revelation and the anguish of that discovery,
she flung her arms around him and clung to him passionately.

"You shall not go!" she moaned. "You shall not go; or if you do you
must take me with you. I can not live without you. You know that I
can not. Oh, papa! papa!"

The tones of her voice, which were wailed out in a wild, despairing
cry, reached the ears of the doctor, who at once hurried in.

"What is this?" he said, sharply and sternly, to Zillah. "Is this
keeping your promise?"

"Oh, doctor!" said Zillah, imploringly, "I did not mean to--I could
not help it--but tell me--it is not true, is it? Tell me that my
father is not going to leave me!"

"I will tell you this," said he, gravely. "You are destroying every
chance of his recovery by your vehemence."

Zillah looked up at him with an expression of agony on her face such
as, accustomed as he was to scenes of suffering, he had but seldom
encountered.

"I've killed him, then!" she faltered.

The doctor put his hand kindly on her